Playing with Fire
by ninthsgirl
Summary: Be careful when you pick a fight with a Time Lord.


"Ridiculous apes!"

Those were the words that set Rose off. It was certainly not the first time the Doctor had said this, or somthing along the same lines. Why did they burrow under her skin this time? Maybe it was because she couldn't remember the last time she had had a real, satisfying tea or a full night's sleep - how did he survive on what he ate, and did he ever rest? Maybe it was because she wanted a long, hot shower, or maybe it was the patronizing tone in his voice as he tossed out the words while he busied himself about the control panel that made her almost go spare. Whatever it was, she made no attempt to hide her irritation as she threw herself into the nearest chair with a very loud, disgruntled sigh.

He looked at her briefly, quizzically. "What's the matter?" he asked absently, not waiting for a response but returning to his plotting. "Didn't you enjoy that? I knew we would get out - piece of cake." He grinned to himself and started to hum under his breath in counterpoint to the sounds issuing from the TARDIS.

She looked at him for a long moment and suddenly all the frustration, the discomfort, the strange dissatisfaction, overwhelmed her. Looking for an outlet, she impulsively chose a very petty, childish one - she wrenched off her trainer and chucked it at him. It caught him on the shoulder and deflected onto the control panel with a loud thunk. He whirled around and stared at her with a comically incredulous expression. (She would never, ever say it out loud, but sometimes his expression in combination with those ears!)

"What was that for?" he shouted.

"Oh, you're actually looking at me now - that's an improvement!" she shot back.

"You threw your shoe at me!" he said, picking it up from the controls and looking at it, then at her.

"Nothing gets by the great Time Lord," she said sarcastically.

He took a deep breath and she could see him composing himself, controlling his emotions before speaking. "I repeat, what was that for?" he asked, checking the instruments for damage.

Rose dramatically cast her eyes toward the ceiling, tapping her lips with one finger as she pretended to think. "Mmm, I don't know... maybe because you sound like a self-important git!"

He examined her with the clinical detachment he sometimes used when encountering a new gadget and then shook his head. "I don't understand you," he said, turning back again to his calculations so that she was staring at his leather clad back. "You're being ridiculous."

"There it is again!" she yelled, jumping to her feet. "We're always ridiculous to you - humans," she clarified. "Silly, ridiculous, messy humans!"

"Is that what all this is about? But you are all of those things," he replied lightly over his shoulder. "You have to admit that - I mean, look at all the worlds and beings I've shown you."

"So that's what all these - field trips - have been to you, just a way to enlighten poor little Rose about how stupid and small and pathetic her life is!" she snapped at him, choosing to misunderstand him because she was so angry.

The Doctor turned to face her again, and it was obvious that he was hurt by her accusations and extremely out of his depth facing this unexpected, fiery Rose standing before him with her brown eyes snapping and her hands in fists at her sides. Even the fact that she was wearing only one trainer did not take away from her anger. "Now, that's unfair!" he said, trying to remain calm. "You're not any of those things - I meant in general, not you, and that's not why I brought you with me. And besides, I would have left you at home, but you insisted -"

"But I am!" she interrupted him. "I'm exactly like everyone out there." She gestured toward the door of the TARDIS. "You say we're silly, stupid apes, immature, emotional -"

"Well, you're definitely emotional, you can't deny that!" he retorted, his voice rising to meet hers. "Where did all this come - "

"And why should I deny it?" she interrupted again. "Aren't emotions what make life worth living?" She paused a moment. "Where are all your emotions, Doctor?" She took a step forward. "I've seen you start to feel, really feel, maybe indulge it for a minute or two, then lock it back up neat and tidy. Is that your game plan for your life, closing it all up until you're dead inside? Your people didn't live, but you did - are you going to waste it?"

Oh. She had crossed a line, pushed her finger right into his wound. In the back of her mind, she winced as she heard the words leave her mouth. "Rose," the Doctor said quietly, but there was warning and danger in his voice. Why was she goading him? "We're done with this conversation." He started to leave, but she foolishly chose to disregard the warning, stepped over, and blocked his way. Why was she goading him?

"Come on, Doctor, what are you afraid of?" she said with a hint of a taunt in her voice. "We can't be so ridiculous to you if you keep coming back here. How many times have you been to Earth? It seems to be the one place you can't stay away from. Look at you!" She waved her hand at his lanky frame. "Even your body is a human one. How many times have you chosen a human body rather than one of those neater, more controllable aliens?"

Another step brought her closer to him, and she could see his hands fisted at his sides, shaking slightly. Something was bubbling below the surace, something powerful and dark, something she should have feared but unwisely did not. She was not sure why her irritation had turned into confrontation. She knew what she was saying to him was not fair, that he was sometimes insensitive but not uncaring to her; she also knew that a madness had seized her and she could not turn back.

"Come on, Doctor," she said again. "Come swim in the shallow end of the pool with me. Maybe a little less control is just what you need."

She stared at him defiantly, breath coming hard and fast from between her parted lips, as if she had just completed one of their mad dashes. She momentarily felt powerful, in control - until she really looked into his eyes. They were dark and they pierced her, pinned her motionless where she stood, and she realized, too late, that she had been playing with fire, for a very long time actually, and she was now about to get burned.

Whatever reaction she had been trying to provoke, it had not been this. Keeping her locked in place with his gaze, the Time Lord - the Doctor did not seem to fit him in this mood - strode around the control panel and covered the distance between them with incredible speed. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest with such force that she let out a squeaky little gasp. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly at the silly sound, and then he kissed her.

Of course she had been kissed before. But kissing did not begin to describe what he was doing to her. His mouth was hot, heady, and sweet, a portal into his very soul. He plunged his hands into her hair and cradled her skull in his long fingers, plundering her, turning her this way and that as if searching for the perfect fit. Her hands were pinned between them, and all she could do was clutch his leather jacket and hang on, the world spinning crazily around her. Her blood roared in her ears. His tongue danced inside her, and he tasted like... time, ancient and new, she thought hazily as he did dark, amazing things to her with that beautiful mouth.

After minutes? hours? days? his lips lost their frantic forcefulness - they caressed hers now with such gentleness and sweetness that she almost wept. She felt his breath in her mouth and heard words like song flowing into her, alien words of unimaginable beauty and purity. He poured his language into her, and it was music made visible, colors that sang. It was an icy drink on a scorching day that, instead of quenching her thirst, made her realize just how parched she was. One melody seemed to repeat over and over again through the litany - she wanted to ask what it meant but could not remember how to speak.

"It's your name," he whispered in answer, as if she had spoken aloud (could he hear her thoughts?) "Rose... Rose... my Rose," he murmured, imprinting the words with his lips on her eyelids, her cheeks, her mouth, first in English then in lyrical alien notes.

Suddenly she realized that she was not hearing the words only with her ears. They were whispering inside her head, swirling through her brain, leaving golden glowing trails in their wake. My Rose... my Rose... mine... mine... The possessiveness in them made her shiver, but not with fear. They entwined into the very fiber of her being and fused there. Would she ever be free of them? Would she ever want to be free?

"What are you doing to me?" she whispered breathlessly as he freed her mouth and trailed a line of fire across her cheek and down her neck.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked her, pressing the question into the base of her throat so that her head fell back. "Do you want me to stop, my Rose?" he demanded, piercing her with those eyes, blue fire blazing into her soul.

"No, no," she choked out, her voice strange in her ears. "Never." And she reached out with hands and mind to pull him back to her. He chuckled, happiness and triumph mingling, and the sound rumbled in his chest as he pressed against her, cheek to cheek. She felt him smile against her face.

"Good," he said in a low growl, sending another shiver down her spine. "You started this, my Rose - no backing out of the muck now." He pulled away to look down at her, and his mercurial smile flashed down at her like the sun. She grinned back. "You're right," he added, raising his eyebrows wickedly, "the water is fantastic in the shallow end!"

And then he kissed her again, and this time she danced with him. The TARDIS quietly powered down, knowing she would not be needed.


End file.
